


even in the shadows

by starstrung



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 22:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17907263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstrung/pseuds/starstrung
Summary: By all the gods, Gilmore will have to stop accidentally flirting with Vax if he wants to keep even some small remnant of his sanity.





	even in the shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the fall of Emon, in Whitestone.

Gilmore gets out of his bed with some effort, and uses the cane he was given to hobble to the door and open it.

As he suspected, Vax stands there. His frozen look of surprise would be comical, if it weren’t for the dark circles ringing his eyes. “Well, if all you’re going to do is stand out there and pace,” Gilmore says, cheerfully, “you might as well come in and make me some tea.”

“How did you know it was me?” Vax says, coming in and closing the door.

“My dear Vax, I would be a poor arcane practitioner if I could not sense magical signatures through a door. And you, might I say, have a very distinct collection of magical auras about you. In many ways, you are hard to miss,” Gilmore says, eyes falling to the daggers at Vax’s hip, the strange shimmering cloak about his shoulders.

Vax’s expression lifts a bit, and he smirks — and by all the gods, Gilmore will have to stop accidentally flirting with Vax if he wants to keep even some small remnant of his sanity. He’s always believed that there’s nothing wrong with a little open appreciation. But Vax will never love him back in the same way, and perhaps the most surprising thing of all is how much Gilmore wishes that were not the case.

He grimaces a little, and Vax mistakes it as a wince of physical pain, bless him. His expression goes alarmed and concerned. “Are you okay? Should you be out of bed?” he says, and helps Gilmore to the cushioned chair that has been placed next to the fire for him.

“Probably not,” Gilmore says, sitting down with a groan. When Vox Machina found him buried in the rubble of Emon, he’d been very close to death. The first thing he remembers was Vax holding him in his lap, his head bent over him as if in prayer, his long dark hair curtaining them both.

“Don’t overdo it, yeah? You have to rest,” Vax says, standing anxiously at Gilmore’s side. His eyes flicker over Gilmore’s bandages, as if expecting to see his wounds opening without warning.

“I’m sure you have more important things to do than oversee my slow convalescence,” Gilmore says. And, because he cannot help conducting himself like some lovelorn fool, he adds, “Not that I don’t appreciate the company, Vax’ildan.”

Again, Vax gives him that warm smile, the one that Gilmore likes to believe is just for him. “You know there’s nothing I’d like better than to spend the day making sure you don’t get into any trouble,” he says. “Now, you said something about making tea, right?”

Gilmore laughs a little. Always the master of evasion, his Vax. “Yes, there should be some tea leaves in the cabinet there.”

“On it,” Vax says, and sets about heating up water in the small teapot, and brewing tea. Gilmore leans back in his chair and tries not to breathe too raggedly. It’s still difficult for him to be awake for long periods of time, but his stamina is slowly returning.

When it is done, Vax carefully hands him a teacup. Gilmore’s hands, thankfully, are steady enough now to hold things without spilling, although Vax still watches him closely.

Gilmore takes a sip of his tea. It’s a little oversteeped, and has gone slightly bitter, but it calms him nonetheless. “I’m sorry I don’t have any other chair to offer you,” he says. The small cottage they have given him is one of many that have been set aside for the refugees of Emon who came to Whitestone for safe haven. It is more than adequate, but the furnishings are a little bare.

“Don’t worry about that,” Vax says, easily, and sits cross-legged by the fire at the foot of Gilmore’s chair with his own cup of tea, settling his cloak around him in a dark pool.

“You’re still in your armor. With all your weapons. Did you just come from some adventure?” Gilmore asks.

“No, I—” Vax looks slightly embarrassed. “I don’t like to be unprepared, that’s all. We’ve already been taken by surprise by these dragons once. Really would prefer it never happen again.”

“You have to let yourself rest too,” Gilmore says, softly. “The dragons will have nothing more than an easy target if you’ve wound yourself tight enough to break in the meantime.”

“You almost died, Shaun,” Vax says, and he sounds broken with it. “If we had not come in time—”.

“But you did,” Gilmore says, interrupting him. He cannot stand the sight of Vax torturing himself like this. Of all the emotions for Vax to be consumed with on his behalf, he would have it be something kind, something to bring brightness into this man. If he cannot have Vax’s love, he will at least have that. 

“You saved me, and you brought me to safety, and we are safe here, Vax,” he says, firmly. “You have to let your guard down some time. Let it be here, at least.”

Gilmore expects Vax to evade this too, but he holds Gilmore’s gaze for a long moment, as if considering these words. Finally, when Gilmore is just about ready to break the silence with an ill-advised flirtation, Vax sets down his cup of tea on the hearthstone and gets to his feet. He unclasps his robe and hangs it up on one of the hooks by the door. Then he undoes each piece of his armor and puts these in a neat pile, along with a truly terrifying number of daggers.

Gilmore watches all of this shamelessly, taking small sips of his tea so he’s not too obvious. He knows he’s been caught, though, when Vax takes perhaps a little too much care in undoing the laces of his boots, his ass on prominent display. When he straightens up, Vax’s eyes are glittering with hidden laughter, and Gilmore laughs too.

“Fine, fine, you’ve made your point, you wretch,” Gilmore says, fond. “Sit down before you pull a muscle.”

“Just thought I’d make the most of it,” Vax says, unrepentant. “You know, help you recover faster and all that.” He sits down again with his tea. Now that he’s just in his shirt and trousers, Vax’s posture is much less stiff and battle-weary. Gilmore is glad to see it. 

“You underestimate me,” Gilmore says, putting on a fake air of indignation. “I could be on the brink of death and still be an abominable flirt.”

“You were just  _ on  _ the brink of death,” Vax points out, lips twitching.

“True. And I woke up in the arms of a beautiful man, if I recall,” Gilmore says, before he can bite his own tongue.

Vax seems to dismiss it as another meaningless flirtation, however, and just snorts. “Point taken,” he concedes, and part of Gilmore wants to take Vax by his shoulders, to shake him. I am in love with you, you fool, he wants to shout.

Gilmore looks away instead, takes a much too large sip of his tea and burns the roof of his mouth for his trouble. 

Despite this, the rest of the afternoon passes in comfortable conversation. Evening falls, and Vax disappears for a bit to go to the pub across the street. He returns with a tray of steaming plates of food, and a jug of chilled Whitestone cider.

“You better eat all of this, or I’m keeping all the cider for myself,” Vax warns, but Gilmore does not have any trouble with his appetite, it turns out. There is something to be said about the heartiness of Whitestone food. Gilmore finds himself wiping up the last bits of stew with his bread — the most he has eaten in one sitting in a long time.

He sits back at last with a contented sigh. The cider is cool and refreshing, the crisp taste of winter apples blooming across his tongue. “Not too bad,” Gilmore says, appreciatively.

“I’ll pass it along to Percy, he’ll be pleased it satisfied your discerning tastes,” Vax says, teasing. He finishes his glass of cider and pours both of them more.

Every part of Gilmore feels warm and pleasantly heavy. He cannot help admiring the angles of Vax’s face as they are lit by the flickering firelight. He is beautiful. Gilmore is grateful for the cider, which keeps the pain of it dulled somewhat. He will never have Vax. Perhaps it is fine if he just has this instead — Vax happy and loose-limbed, sitting comfortably at Gilmore’s feet, telling a story of their adventures.

“You’ve gone quiet,” Vax says. “Getting bored?” 

“No,” Gilmore shakes his head. “Just happy to watch.” Vax’s head is already tipped up towards him (when did he start sitting so close?) so it is easy for Gilmore to reach down and stroke a hand over Vax’s hair, his fingers getting tangled a little. He can’t help but to pull, just to see. In response, Vax tips his head back into it, and makes a sound that seems to take them both by surprise.

Gilmore knows immediately that he has gone too far. Vax’s expression, when he checks, looks stricken. “Fuck,” Gilmore says in a low whisper. “I’m sorry. Vax, I shouldn’t have—”. He draws his hand back, but Vax catches him by the wrist, and does not let him pull away completely.

“You can do that again,” Vax says, eyes gone dark.

“What,” Gilmore says, disbelieving. But Vax only looks at him expectantly, so he makes a light fist in Vax’s hair, pulling gently, and gets to see the way Vax seems to exhale every last bit of tension out of his body.

“Shaun,” Vax says, softly, a kind of agony in it that Gilmore recognizes all too well as longing, and then Vax is scrambling up into the chair with him, mindful of where he puts his weight so that none of Gilmore’s wounds are tested.

It is a clumsy kiss, at first. Partly because of the inconvenience of the angle, and partly because Gilmore is so stunned by this turn of events that it takes him a moment to gather his bearings. He kisses back, finally, slow, arduous kisses that build in easy succession, one after another. A hum rasps its way through Vax’s throat when Gilmore, quite by accident, begins to suck the tip of Vax’s tongue into his mouth.

Gods, but Gilmore wishes to take him apart. His hands find themselves on the delicate span of Vax’s waist, and — yes, Vax lifts his hips forward so that Gilmore can feel him hardening against him.

If Gilmore follows this where it may lead, he may never recover. He pulls himself away from the kiss to breathe, and Vax’s open mouth pants hot breaths against his ear, pressing kisses to his neck.

“Let me,” Vax says, pleading. “Let me take care of you, Shaun. You don’t have to do anything.”

Gilmore closes his eyes. He is a terrible man, he knows this. He has broken his own share of hearts, ruined his own share of lives. But he does not deserve even this. If he takes Vax into his bed, that will be the end of it. A night or two spent joyously together. And then?

And then Vax will leave.

“No,” Gilmore says. “I’m sorry, Vax but I can’t.”

Vax looks at him. “Why not?”

Gilmore cannot help but laugh bitterly. “You know why. Don’t make me say it. It’s too embarrassing, and I have a reputation to uphold after all.”

Vax’s hand grips his chin, making it impossible to look away. “Tell me, Shaun.”

“I’m in love with you,” Gilmore says, and after all this time, he says it proudly and with its own kind of defiance. “Everything you have to give me, my dear Vax’ildan, I would gladly take. But it can’t be enough, I’m afraid.” He takes Vax’s hands in his and kisses his knuckles. He is a greedy man, after all.

“Do you understand?” he asks.

Vax looks at him as if  _ he’s  _ the one whose heart is breaking. “I do love you, Shaun,” Vax says. 

Gilmore smiles, a little sadly, and for once, cannot speak, the words catching in his throat. Vax makes a choked noise and presses their foreheads together.

“I never meant to cause you pain like this,” Vax murmurs.

“That’s what happens when you drag someone out of the rubble,” Gilmore tells him, flippant to a fault. “But I will get better. I always get better.” 

“And you’ll be back to your glorious self,” Vax says. He steps away from Gilmore, careful again of his injuries.

“Of course!” Gilmore says, with a flourish. After everything, bravado still comes to him like a second skin. “But for tonight, I think I’ve earned my rest. This is the longest I’ve been able to stay up in a week.” And it is true. He can feel his stamina quickly waning.

“Good night then, Shaun,” Vax says, and quick as a dart steps forward to press a kiss upon the crown of Gilmore’s head. Then, he puts his armor back on, his daggers and his cloak, and steps out into the night.

Despite his weariness, it is a long time before Gilmore is able to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/star_strung).


End file.
